


Daddy

by sdk



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Community: bbtp_challenge, Daddy Kink, F/M, Incest Fantasy, Metamorphmagus Sex, Molestation Fantasy, POV Second Person, Smoking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-01
Updated: 2017-09-01
Packaged: 2018-12-22 13:16:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11968185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sdk/pseuds/sdk
Summary: You’ll never tire of this, the pleasure rippling through her. Pleasure you gift her. Pleasure she needs.





	Daddy

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Bring Back The Porn 2017. Special thanks to my awesome beta, lq_traintracks!

Her thighs press together, ankles crossed, knees flush against one another, but it doesn’t matter. You’re hooked in, fingers squeezed inside Lily’s heat. She says, “No, no, no, no,” but her voice is weaker now than at the start, more breath than sound. Her hips move, small, jerky thrusts. She rides your hand because she can’t help herself. She rides your hand because her body doesn’t know how to say no. 

“Daddy—stop—” she pleads, but her hips freeze in a buck, muscles tight, the softest, sweetest vice around you. Her mouth falls slack, screaming, silent—then it rushes over you—her body convulsing, her gasps for air. You’ll never tire of this, the pleasure rippling through her. Pleasure you gift her. Pleasure she needs.

Her legs fall open and you rub her, spreading her wetness all over her cunt. You rub her until she bats your hand away. 

In this, finally, you obey. 

Her eyelids flutter open. She reaches for you, cups your cheek. “Daddy,” she sighs, thumb trailing a path through the stubble along your jawline. Your dick throbs. The desire to press into her open thighs and thrust to completion nearly overwhelms you. But you can’t. Not yet. 

She’ll let you know when it’s time. 

Her arm flops down. She closes her eyes and sighs.

“Go ahead. I’m done.”

You feel your body shift and relax. It’s a relief to be yourself again, though your dick still throbs, same as _his_. It took practice to hold him that long—morphing into another person so completely isn’t as easy as downing a phial of Polyjuice, but your brewing talent is shite and you never know when she’ll want it. 

“Pass me a fag, will you, Teddy?” 

You flop down next to her a grab your half empty pack from the night stand. She lights two with the tip of her wand and passes the extra to you. 

“You’re sick, you know that, Lils?” 

She glances at your prick, hard and proudly jutting toward your stomach, leaking at the tip. Just her gaze makes it twitch and you fight the urge to grab a blanket and cover yourself up. 

Her laugh tinkles in the air. She takes a drag and blows a smoke ring. You wonder how long she practiced that, to get the shape so perfect, how it floats in the air like a feather before wafting away. She takes another drag, then swings her leg over, settling on your hips. Ash falls to your chest, but all you can feel is the heat of her cunt against your shaft as she gently rocks against you. 

“Who’s the one who keeps coming back?” She takes your fag and leans over to stub out both, her hair sweeping against your skin. You grab her hips and squeeze; her knees tighten against you. 

“No,” she says. “You know what I want.”

She closes her eyes; she never likes to watch the change. 

Your body shifts under her. Wisps of dark hair spatter across your chest; your abs soften, no longer flat, but slightly pudgy just like your stomach. She scrunches her hands into your blackened hair and traces a finger over the zig zag scar on your forehead. 

Harry’s scar. 

She leans down, lips brushing against yours feather-light, and sighs, “Oh, Daddy.”


End file.
